


The Princes of the New World

by musemm



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musemm/pseuds/musemm
Summary: Ben and Billy’s pastime at the dawn of the resistance in Nassau.





	The Princes of the New World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Urban_Solitude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urban_Solitude/gifts).



> This fic happened because of [Urban_Solitude](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Urban_Solitude). And I’m glad it did because there should be more Gunnbones in this world ;P  
> Beta’d by the lovely [beatriceHB](http://archiveofourown.org/users/beatriceHB).

Sunset is the favorite time for the citizens of Nassau. Those who leave the coast of New Providence at such an hour look at the smoothly colored surface of the ocean that beckons toward the horizon, and those who remain on land hurry away from the sea, from their grueling daily routine: some to a tavern, some to a brothel, and only a few lucky ones – home.

 _Home_ is a loose concept though, Ben thinks, leaning on the axe handle and peacefully watching the sleepy sun draw heat out of the sky, making it all the more blue and chilly. He hisses quietly and slaps his bare shoulder with an annoyed grunt; Ben would love Caribbean evenings too if it weren’t for the damned gnats. And, perhaps, if he had something to do aside from his usual daily chores. It has been two days since they settled in the Barlow house and Billy took him to Nassau only once, for a couple of hours, in the middle of the day... Ben sighs, brushes the annoying midges away from his sticky skin and lifts the axe in the air. The blade sinks soundly into the heavy log and splits it almost into chips. He wipes the sweat from his forehead, wistfully contemplating the pile of firewood (that has gotten pretty large), and wishes he could finally learn the secrets, dangers and attractions that fill this mysterious town. After all, Billy himself has shared with him so many tales about it.

Billy... Ben freezes, listens, then turns around. The bosun of the Walrus rarely catches him by surprise anymore, although he still sneaks up quietly and imperceptibly, like a cat. A big wild cat, Ben thinks, eyeing Billy. The man looks somewhat embarrassed: it appears, he didn’t expect to be noticed quite so soon. He gawks at Ben, his big blue eyes contrasting unforgivably with his imposing appearance; with his tall form, his light reddish stubble, the ripe muscles of his invariably bared shoulders (this _has_ to be on purpose, Ben smirks to himself). Billy’s eyes reflexively flicker over Ben; a fraction of a second, but it's enough to give Ben an idea about how to get rid of his boredom. He squares his shoulders and gazes intently at Bones, smirking – no longer to himself – until Billy's embarrassment becomes evident and he finally breaks the silence.

"What are your plans? Chopping wood until dark?” Billy points at the result of Ben's work, grinning.

“Why not?” Ben shrugs. "Unless you have a more exciting assignment for me," he throws a playfully reproachful glance at the man, swings the axe in his hand – deftly, like a sword – and picks up another log.

Billy crosses his arms over his chest, watching him, and says with a mysterious smile:

"Well, a night trip to Nassau is hardly more exciting than what you’re doing, so I won’t bother you."

Ben straightens up and throws the axe aside. His eyes light up like those of a child who just received a long-awaited toy.

“Are you serious?”

Bones only arches an eyebrow in response, the smile still on his face. Ben laughs joyfully.

"Damn it, Billy, what are we waiting for!?" He rushes toward the bosun and impulsively clasps his face between his hands. Billy draws away.

"We are waiting for you to clean yourself up and stop smelling like a horse," Billy wrinkles his nose in a funny way, flinging Ben’s hands away with theatrical indignation.

"Will do," Ben says, his face suddenly serious, and heads toward the house. On his way, he gives Billy a playful smack on the ass, making him almost jump in surprise. Ben winks at him over his shoulder and turns away, a contented grin across his face. His evening is definitely getting better.

 

The tavern is so noisy that their ears are ringing, and there’s no room to swing a cat. Even so, Ben readily swigs down another glass of a rather unsavory drink and exultantly watches the variegated mosaic of faces that surround them: male and female, sunburnt and ashen grey, cheerfully drunk and painfully sullen.

“Those are the men we need,” Billy nearly shouts at Ben’s ear and cocks his head toward a gang of young but obviously weathered sailors crowded around a small table in the corner and feeling up the girls nestled in their laps. ”They used to sail with Captain Naft. He is no use to us but these men have what it takes. Good fighters, and they will never sell out to the English. We’ll try to recruit them first thing tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” Ben, in turn, barks right into Billy’s ear, so loudly that the bosun staggers back with a chuckle.

“Today,” Billy demonstratively takes the glass out of Ben’s hand, “neither of us are in good enough condition for that. This is the night of your acquaintance with Nassau. My task was merely to show you its more pleasant attributes. Without getting you completely pissed,” he makes a warning gesture when Ben reaches toward him to get back his glass.

“You’re so thoughtful, Billy,” Ben sighs, but when Billy gets up off his chair and gives him an imperative nod, Ben follows his example with an obedient smile.

As soon as Ben stands up, tenacious, bracelet-laden arms wrap around his shoulders, forcing him to stay in place. A moment later, a young girl settles into his lap. Her long black locks are falling over her naked stomach, barely concealing her breasts, and her piercing brown eyes seem to gaze right into one’s soul. Ben has heard how easily men fall under the spell of local women and give away not just their gold but also the most terrible secrets. He is sure this will never work on him, and yet he decides to fix his eyes not on her face but a little lower, instinctively placing his hand on the girl’s hip.

“In a hurry, mon cher?” she purrs, tucking a loose strand of Ben’s hair behind his ear. With her rolling accent and long swarthy legs she resembles a panther.

As Ben opens his mouth (although he hasn’t got the slightest idea how to reply), another girl creeps up to Billy. She looks too obviously different from the first girl: she has blue eyes, golden braided hair and ivory skin. The curves of her body are much more prominent than her partner’s but just as exposed. She shamelessly presses them against Billy, and Ben discovers that now his attention is completely focused on the two of them.

“The boys simply had nothing to do, Ellie. But we will remedy that,” she says in a sugary voice, sliding her finger up Billy’s muscled shoulder. Bones flinches at the touch and quite unceremoniously pushes away the dumbfounded girl.

“Pick someone else,” he barks, nearly making Ben and both girls’ jaws drop. However, the thought that crept into Ben’s mind earlier blazes up in him, and before he even bothers to put it out, he reaches his free hand and draws the blonde close to him.

“I’m sorry, my friend isn’t used to the attention of girls like you,” he smiles, leering teasingly at Billy from under his brows, and he feels strangely triumphant when beyond Billy’s frown he sees not only the embarrassment – which is already familiar – but also a barely perceptible hint of something entirely different, something new.

Ellie, who is still sitting in Ben’s lap, pushes his chest playfully and pouts her lips, and he presses her body tightly to his own.

“And you,” Ben assures her and gives her a light wet kiss. “Didn’t you mention certain pleasant attributes, Billy?” he says in response to the bosun’s discontented stare, but his excuses are interrupted by the other girl, who grabs Ben by his chin and pulls him into a forceful kiss.

Ben shows no resistance because, truth be told, he hasn’t felt someone else’s warmth for a long, long time, and although it’s not exactly what he pictured on the way to New Providence, lying in his hammock at night, he finds that his body has woken up and is simply unable to refuse what it has been offered. Nonetheless, he remembers what (or, rather, who) triggered it in him and tears away from the soft lips, although it takes him considerable effort to do so. His head regains its ability to think when he realizes that Billy is long gone. Ben hastily, but carefully removes Ellie from his lap and rushes out of the tavern, leaving the girls completely bewildered.

He finds Billy in the backyard, where they left their horses: Billy is hurriedly unfastening his. As soon as Ben touches his fingers with his own, Billy jerks his hand away from him, and Ben wonders to himself how many times in his life Billy has made that gesture, and toward how many people.

“What about your _pleasant attributes_?” Billy snaps coldly, and Ben bites on his bottom lip to hide a smile. For better or worse, everything is going according to his not quite elaborate plan.

“I’m not here for them,” Ben doesn’t take his eyes off him, slowly moving forward.

“For what then?” asks Billy after a few seconds of hesitation, adjusting the harness with the most indifferent expression.

Ben turns him around, cups his jaw with his palms and covers his mouth with a demanding kiss.

Billy tenses up and seizes Ben by his hands – apparently, intending to push him away – but Ben puts more force into the kiss, and soon the bosun of the Walrus surrenders. He kisses Ben back, letting him in, and his hands, that were gripping Ben’s wrists, now move up his shoulders slowly. His lips are slightly dry and not as smooth as those of the girls from the tavern but they feel so much more pleasant to Ben. It’s like these lips were created for him exclusively, molded into a perfect shape. He slides his tongue over them with increasing need, squeezes them with his own again and again. This is so much better than he expected, this is too much… Billy must feel the same, because he pulls back, as if regaining his senses. Both of them are breathing too heavily, and Ben thinks that his eyes must be as wild as Billy’s. They stay like this for some time until one of them is able to speak again.

“We should go,” Billy breathes out and leads his horse out of the stall. “Lots to do tomorrow.”

Ben can barely keep up with him on their way back.

 

In the morning he wakes up to the sound of a shot.

As far as Ben knows, nothing good ever follows that sound, so he jumps out of bed and runs out into the backyard, wearing nothing but thin breeches. He sighs with relief, his hands on his bent knees, when he sees only Billy: he is standing straight, holding a pistol tightly in his hand and aiming at one of the empty cans on the top of the fence. His whole body is pulled taut like a string, his muscles rippling underneath the glistening skin of his shoulders. Billy fires another shot that barely touches the can; after a second of hesitation, it falls from the fence.

“Aren’t you afraid to scare the neighbors?” Ben smiles at him as he approaches. Billy glances at him but then returns to his task.

“They’d better get used to this,” he replies.

Ben chuckles and comes closer.

“You’re way too tense. Can’t fire a good shot that way.”

“Really?” Billy smirks, lowering the gun and turning to face Ben. “I’m experienced enough, so I’m afraid you’re not the one to teach me, Mr. Gunn.

Ben grabs him by the shoulders and makes him face the target again, raise the pistol and take aim. Billy draws in a surprised breath but neither puts up any resistance nor says a word.

“Relax,” Ben murmurs into his ear, “but keep your back straight.” His right hand shifts to the small of the man’s back, and Billy squares his shoulders, exhaling loudly. “Breathe evenly,” Ben continues in a strict manner, but his voice is soft. “When you aim, feel your shot.” He barely touches Billy’s waist with his fingertips, looking at the target over the man’s shoulder, just as focused as he is.

Ben listens to Billy’s steady breathing, catches his warmth, and he is tempted to press his lips against it. He compulsively brings his mouth to the hot skin of the man’s neck when the deafening sound of a shot stops him – just in time. The can hurtles off the fence.

Billy turns around at once. He is breathing hard, his mouth slightly open, and his eyes are shining when he raises his hand, still holding the pistol, to Ben’s face and roughly lifts his chin with the muzzle. Ben gazes at his lips, as though entranced, and in a blink of an eye he tastes them. The realization of how badly he wanted this burns him from the inside, awakens the desires that had been dormant for so long he had to forget about them – the desires that came back to life last night. He moans desperately into Billy’s mouth and grinds his hips against him, grasping him just below the small of his back. Billy abruptly pulls away.

“Aren’t you afraid to scare the neighbors?” Billy laughs. He looks almost embarrassed.

“They’d better get used to this,” Ben grins quite salaciously, making an attempt to put his hands back where they were. Billy doesn’t let him – _there’s that gesture again._

“Ben…” he falls silent and casts his eyes down.

“I know,” Ben puts his hand on the side of Billy’s neck and swipes his thumb along his jaw. “I, too… almost forgot what it’s like, that’s how long it has been. You have no idea,” he lets out a sigh.

“If it happened only a couple of times several years ago,” Billy gives him a bashful smile, “then yes, I suppose, you do know.”

“Is it true?” Ben says after a baffled pause. Billy nods.

“It’s time for you to go,” he commands in a suddenly harsh tone, takes his previous position and reloads the pistol.

“Go?“ Ben asks perplexedly.

“Recruit the soldiers for the resistance army,” Billy looks back at him over his shoulder. “Let’s see how you handle your first mission.”

“So, “resistance”, then?" Ben rolls the word on his tongue. “Captain Naft’s crew, right?”

“His _former_ crew,” Billy corrects him, smiling devilishly, and Ben is struck by the notion: whatever mysteries and temptations are awaiting in Nassau, they can hardly compare with what he sees now, right in front of him.

“I won’t be back until dark,” Ben jerks up his chin and heads for the house to get his armor.

 

A starry night is descending on the island when Ben stumbles heavily into the house. He is instantly enveloped in the warmth of the hearth and the mouth-watering smell of freshly cooked meat. Billy is standing by the table and wiping his hands with a piece of linen. The dancing flashes of fire are reflected all over his shirtless body. It seems like he is glowing from within, radiating heat. Ben takes his eyes off him only for a split second, nodding at the bottle of wine in the center of the table.

“What are you waiting for?” he arches an eyebrow, unabashed.

Billy grins silently and uncorks the wine. He gives Ben a searching look as he comes closer, wrests the bottle out of Billy’s hands and takes a few greedy swigs.

"There are ten of us now," he finally says, unable to deny himself the dramatic pause. "Congratulations, Mr. Bones, you are now the true ringleader of the resistance in Nassau."

A satisfied smirk flashes across Billy's face, but then his expression becomes serious. His dark eyes seem even bigger than usual, gleaming in the soft light of the flames. He seizes the bottle from Ben's hands, puts it sloppily on the table, almost spilling the wine, and Ben feels like he is indeed melting in a fire when Billy draws him into a wild, wet kiss. His hands wander restlessly over Ben's body, trying to touch everything at once, he begins to shake feverishly, and Ben makes an incredible effort to break away.

"Not so fast," he laughs, trying to catch his breath.

Billy is gasping, rubbing the tip of his nose against Ben's cheek.

"Show me how," he asks.

Ben’s own hands begin to tremble and he tries to hide it, clutching firmly at Billy's belt.

"You’re not gonna let me celebrate?" Ben points jokingly at the table over Billy’s shoulder. “I’m starving.”

"So am I," Billy whispers hoarsely into his mouth and attacks it again – he is more gentle this time, but just as demanding. His heat makes Ben dizzy but it also makes him want more, so he quickly removes his shirt and pulls Billy by the belt, making their bodies collide, pressing against his wet skin. Billy awkwardly pushes his tongue into Ben’s mouth; Ben puts his hands on Billy’s neck, restraining him, and sucks his tongue without urgency, setting an absolutely different rhythm. Billy accepts this rhythm, although the muffled whimper and the grasping fingers give away his impatience.

Ben lets go of Billy’s tongue and looks into his eyes. If that’s possible, Billy’s gaze is both hard and helpless, and Ben decides that there’s no need for further delay. He takes a step back toward the bedroom, hooks a finger in Billy’s belt and tugs him forward. An impudent smile spreads across his face when he holds the poor bosun’s gaze. He is elated with one single thought in his head. Billy Bones is now at his mercy. He belongs entirely to him.

That’s why as soon as they enter the bedroom, Ben forgets about the “not so fast”, forgets about gentle touches: he pins Billy against the wall, reaches his hand down between his legs and palms him. Billy’s low moan nearly makes him fall apart.

“You are mine,” Ben says out loud, through his teeth from the sudden, furious desire, “you’re all mine.”

Billy lets out a ragged breath. Ben unbuckles the man's belt and wraps his slender but strong fingers around his organ as Billy watches him hungrily.

“Ben… please,” he begs, putting his hand heavily on the back of Ben’s head.

Ben sinks to his knees, slips off Billy’s clothes and looks up at him. First he wants to see those fathomless eyes, insane with passion, shining over him in the dark. He runs the tip of his tongue up Billy’s hard length – barely touching, but Billy chokes on a gasp all the same and buries his fingers in Ben’s hair. Ben allows him – he has been aching for overt, irrepressible passion, the revelation of another man’s body. So he responds in kind: he squeezes Billy’s buttocks with both hands and pulls him close, taking him in his mouth. Then he goes at him vehemently. Just like Ben wanted, Billy wraps his hair around his fist and holds him in a tight grip, ramming into him and not holding back his shouts. Ben takes it all: he squeezes Billy’s muscular hips with his fingers, closes his mouth tight around his shaft and moves toward him, tasting the precum in his throat. There’s spit on his chin, the sweat is dripping down his back, and when Billy comes, throwing his head back with a guttural growl, Ben moans, swallowing and picturing how filthy they must look right now, like animals.

Billy goes limp in his arms but Ben, despite his need for release, fails to find the strength to stop. He is too starved for this, and it has nothing to do with the fact that Billy denied him dinner. Or maybe it does, he thinks as he turns Billy around, his face to the wall, and sinks his teeth into the taut flesh of his buttocks. Billy hisses, but it’s not the sound of protest, and it becomes a loud sigh when Ben begins to lick him. He makes Billy spread his legs further apart, and he pulls him apart, trying to get deeper into him. Billy tenses up again, deprived of the chance to cool down, and he pants noisily, erratically, faster and faster in time with the movements of Ben’s tongue.

“Ben,” he almost whines with impatience.

Breathing heavily, Ben draws back and roughly strokes him with his fingers. Billy is all wet with his spit, and Ben’s hand slides freely between his buttocks. A couple more strokes, and Billy rubs against him.

“Tell me,” Ben demands, even though his own organ is aching with anticipation, “I wanna hear you say it, Billy.”

The bosun pushes away from the wall, turns around and pulls Ben up to his feet.

“I want you,” he says huskily, looking straight into Ben’s eyes.

Ben finally understands what it’s like to forget how to breathe. Because for a while he does, he disappears from reality. When he comes back, Billy is sprawled on the bed, and Ben is sitting between his long legs, holding in his hand a vial of oil from the brothel.

“Idelle,” Ben explains as Billy rises up on his elbows and stares at the vial with either surprise or apprehension.

“I don’t care,” Billy says after a pause, his wary expression replaced by an expectant smirk.

“Open your legs then,” Ben suddenly commands.

Billy shudders at the words. He obediently bends his knees and spreads his legs wide. Ben grunts at the twinge of pain in his cock. His hands shaking, he pours the lotion over his fingers and pushes them inside, one by one. Billy arches his back and spits out curses, interlacing them with short moans, and soon they begin to sound more like begging. All covered in sweat, he writhes under Ben, impaling himself on his fingers, and Ben can’t hold out any longer: he makes Billy get up on all fours and presses his whole body against his back.

“Remember how I taught you? Relax,” Ben whispers hotly into his ear, and Billy obeys, just like this morning, when they were firing a gun together.

Ben slips into him, and suddenly the visions of the past and his old dreams flash before his eyes: sirens calling him in the dead of night, bright-eyes mermaids beckoning him, and then – the heaving barchans of muscles, strong male bodies. He sees vague images of recent days: the fair-haired pirate, with whom he had shared a cage in the maroon camp and who had disappeared just before the Walrus crew arrived; he sees dark-skinned Ellie with her scorching gaze; finally, he sees Billy’s eyes, one moment light-blue and the next – inexplicably dark, like the ocean itself. He is awakened by the tide of immense pleasure that spreads through his body, penetrates his mind. He pushes into Billy until he is empty, until he recovers his senses; until Billy moans his name and Ben feels his hot seed in his hand.

 

Outside there’s silence, barely broken by the sensual singing of cicadas. Ben is standing over the tub of water, wiping his body with a wet cloth, and Billy watches him, lying on the bed and propping himself up on one elbow. Ben meets his eyes and gives him a smirk.

“How do you like our new recruits?” Billy asks all of a sudden. Well, _not really_ all of a sudden, Ben expected that. In fact, it’s surprising Billy didn’t ask him sooner, although… They were otherwise occupied.

“They can’t compare to you,” Ben offers him a wide grin. Billy grabs one of the pillows and throws it at him. Ben dodges, laughing.

“Do you think they’re reliable?” Billy insists. Ben deliberately rolls his eyes.

“They are, for pirates. Do you really want to discuss other men with me?”

Billy laughs.

“The men who will be living here? I’m afraid I don’t have a choice.”

“They’ll be living in this house?” Ben raises his eyebrows.

“Where else? This will be our headquarters. Wait…” Billy studies his face. “Did you think things would be different?”

“No,” Ben assures him hurriedly. “Things couldn’t be any different. It’s just that…”

He can’t find the words, so Billy settles at the head of the bed and says, smiling languidly:      

“You know, we haven’t even drunk to your success today.”

Ben disappears in the kitchen and returns with the wine and a tankard. He sits beside Billy and offers him the tankard, intending to drink right from the bottle, but Billy takes the bottle from him and pours the wine into the tankard. He lifts the bottle, as if proposing a toast, and they simultaneously take a few gulps. 

“Maybe, very soon this house will be full of people…” Billy says pensively. “The resistance army...”

He pauses and eyes Ben mysteriously. He jerks toward him, takes the tankard out of his hand and puts it on the bedside table.

“But tonight there’s just the two of us,” he whispers, and then Ben feels his hot palm on the back of his neck, his lips, wet with wine, on his own.

Billy pulls Ben close, then reverses their positions and straddles him. Ben looks at him, into him. There is a new confidence about Billy, a new sort of hunger awoken in him – just like Ben’s own. Billy gets aroused right away: he assaults Ben’s body, nips and licks at his skin, making his way lower. With no hesitation Billy takes his stiffening organ into his hand, licks it thoroughly, and a wild cry escapes from Ben when he begins to suck. Ben instinctively thrusts his hips up but Billy holds him down, swallowing his full length. Ben gasps for air, everything is happening too fast, and he reluctantly stops the man.

Billy straightens up and catches his breath, wiping his chin. Ben thinks how unbearably good he looks in the throes of passion: his lips pink and swollen, his muscles rolling and trembling, his broad chest going up and down. Billy must’ve gotten much bolder since they started all this, because he guesses Ben’s thoughts: he settles on top of Ben, grabs his shaft and guides it between his legs. Ben flings his arms back, clutches the headboard and watches Billy in amazement as he moves steadily on him and at the same time slides his hand over his own swollen cock. Bones arches onto him, throwing his head back, and Ben loses his patience: he takes hold of Billy’s hips and flips him onto his back, not without effort, pinning him down with his body. Ben loops his arms under his shoulders and sinks deep into him. Billy wraps his legs around Ben, pulling him even closer and making them both moan.

Time freezes but then flies too fast. Feeling Billy with his entire body, Ben slams into him frantically. He unconsciously whispers god knows what in between kissing his neck, and before long Billy spills over them both, growling through his teeth, his fingers tangled in Ben’s hair. His own release washes over him a few seconds later, blinding him and taking away his ability to think – and move, for that matter.

“So we’re bringing them here today?” Ben mutters languidly, tracing invisible patterns on Billy’s skin and looking at the lightening sky through the window.

Billy responds with an affirmative hum.

“We really won’t be alone here,” Ben either asks or thinks out loud. Billy sits up on the bed and fixes his gaze on him.

“We can do whatever we want, Ben,” he says in a serious tone. “We’re not just the resistance. We are the princes of the New World.”

“I like your ambitions,” Ben laughs.

“That’s the truth. Very soon, things will get better in Nassau. Thanks to us. You’ll see.”

Ben leans toward Billy. His kiss is long and soft. He believes him. For the first time he feels like _home._

_~~~_


End file.
